#I failed the challenge already

[doopn00p]

Wow…

[ravendruid]

3x4x5 - Week 1

This is part of the 3x4x5 Prompt List. One Tent

Eve scratched her head as the young Halfling set up the tent underneath the small canopy of trees they found by the trail. The precision with which Bree hoisted the canvas made her think it was not her first time doing it, although this was the first time they would use their tents.

“All done,” Bree said, dusting her hands. “Feel free to go in and claim your spot. I’m small enough that I’ll fit anywhere.” She offered to Eve with a smile. 

Eve crawled in through the opening at the front and set her backpack down on one side. The tent wasn't colossal, seeing it was meant for two people, but Eve knew it would easily fit both women and their belongings. She spread her bedroll on one side and grabbed a bundle of clothes from her backpack as a pillow.

Bree joined her not long after, spreading her bedroll next to Eve and setting her backpack at the top, by where her head would be, and just like Eve, she also grabbed a bundle of cloaks to use as a pillow. She then laid down, wishing Eve goodnight, knowing that Bree had agreed to take the second watch. Surprisingly, it didn't take long until the Halfling fell into a deep sleep.

—

Eve wasn’t sure how long she had been asleep – she gathered it hadn’t even been an entire hour from how exhausted she felt – when she heard low groans of distress by her side. She thought nothing of it at first, as Bree would sometimes talk in her sleep, but it wasn’t until the girl shot upright with a scream that Eve knew it was concerning.

Bree was panting hard, and Eve noticed her shoulders had started shaking as she brought her knees to her chest and rolled into a ball. Worried, Eve sat on her bedroll and placed a hand between Bree’s shoulder blades.

Are you okay?” She spoke in a soft voice. Bree shook her head, small strands of hair coming out of her messy braid. “Come here,” Eve pulled her into her lap, resting the girl’s head on her chest and wrapping her arms tightly around her. A familiar feeling rushed to her, something she hadn’t felt in months, as Bree fit in perfectly where once another girl had belonged. 

It’s alright, dear. You’re safe.” Eve reassured her in a whisper, rubbing the girl’s back affectionately. She willed her tears down, swallowing the tight knot in her throat at how much she missed this, how much she wished it was a different little girl in her lap, how much she missed the sweet smell of her daughter’s hair.

[lonelyzarquon]

7 COMFORT MOVIES (in no particular order)

tagged by @classichorrorblog (thank you, loved making this list <3)

tagging: @genes-tierney @talesfromthecrypts @mulderscully @andtwelfth (genuinely curious + absolutely no pressure 💖)

ik i’m extremely late for this, i had fun nonetheless :]

[todosmeiape1an]

The Romance in Horror

(15/100)

[butwhatifidothis]

I need the people who look at posts talking about Wyll's treatment in both the actual game and especially the fandom and respond with "but i don't like him and I think he's boring" to know that shutting the fuck up is 100% the better option 100% of the time. Him being the only origin character to not have at last 10 hours of content and the existence of mods that literally whitewash him and his dad - among everything else wrong with how Wyll is treated - are not suddenly okay because you, personally, as an individual, don't find him interesting, and your personal individual feelings about him are irrelevant to the issues surrounding his treatment in the bg3 community at large, so like. Stop barging in with your unwanted, unhelpful opinion

[dawnofiight]

Me after literally DYING GOING UP 6 FLIGHTS OF STAIRS

Anyways Omg Lucid OOTD if Milo was- IM MILO OK. IF MILO WAS A CHICK.

[governmentmandatedryujinstan420]

releasing this from the hj discord dungeon because the public populace was in agreement also i'm chronically offline on tumblr and need to fix that for my chronically online ahh

[chirpsythismorning]

Season 5 Opener: Out of Context

Bonus:

[pisshandkerchief]

*chanting under my breath and rocking back and forth* I will not care about the actors in my favorite media. I will not care about the actors in my favorite media. I will not care about the actors in my favorite media. I will not care about the actors

[passthroughtime]

yagami, WHY do you have to be such a bitch around kuwana. i'm going to strangle you.

(P.S.: he didn't tell kuwana that tesso said not to feel bad about it. obviously.)

[merakiui]

some thoughts about jade leech as a stalker.

(cw: yandere, nsfw, stalking, unhealthy behaviors/relationship, obsession, mentions of death/strangulation)

Jade does not love often. In fact, he has a rather small supply of love, which is reserved for his hobbies and family, so when he loves something other than those two things it can only mean trouble. When Floyd has something special and doesn’t share... Well, naturally Jade’s going to want it. He’s never been inherently greedy. Rather, he’s always let Floyd have everything: the larger half of a bluefin tuna, the shinier stone, the bigger seashells, the slice of cake with more frosting, his uniforms whenever Floyd’s were dirtied or damaged. And in return Floyd has, for the most part, shared his things with Jade. This has always been their normal. 

But this time Floyd makes no mention of sharing when it comes to you. In the past, when they were particularly interested in someone, they would share them. Or, in other words, torment that person in equal succession. Azul has been their prime target for years now, and it doesn’t look like either of them will stop their relentless pursuit in seeing how fast they can get Azul to grouse or groan or sigh. You might think they live to see Azul’s misery, but truthfully they want to accompany Azul as he carves misery into the hearts of the poor, unfortunate souls who thought it wise to do business with deep-sea beasts. Teasing him is just a bonus. 

When it comes to you, Floyd is his usual authentic self: blunt and honest to a fault, dangerously so. But that’s what makes his twin so fun. Floyd won’t sugarcoat the obvious. If he dislikes you, he’ll make it known. Jade, on the other hand, will speak syrupy sweet lies in an effort to maintain proper goodwill, even if he detests you. You’ve never really interested Jade, so he can’t say he hates you. But he can’t say he loves you either. To him, you are just a powerless human in a habitat that does not suit you. Really, even with all of the tricks and traps you pulled to beat Azul at his own game, you remained boring to him. He didn’t pay you much mind after everything had been resolved and you’d been free to return to Ramshackle. That should have been the end of his story with you. 

But then, some time later, you start to make frequent appearances at the lounge. It doesn’t take Jade long to learn that you only show up when Floyd’s on shift, and it also doesn’t take him long to theorize that you might have fallen for his brother’s unique charms. It’s sweet, in a way, how Floyd lights up when he sees you, how you smile a little more brightly when he speaks to you, how your laughter is so very buoyant when Floyd lifts you into the air and spins you happily. Jade’s content to watch from the sidelines, pleased to know that his brother has found a friend in you. That might make it easier to trick you into a contract.

He’s so set in this way of thinking, only viewing you as a pawn or a stepping stone towards some bigger end goal. But when Floyd brings you back to the dorm and you become more than a constant in Jade’s life, he starts to wonder what makes you so special. What is it about you that has his brother so enamored? What makes you irresistible? What parts of you are appealing? Jade thinks it might be how quick it is you submit when Floyd’s got you pinned into the mattress, face first, rough hands spreading your thighs apart, so he can sink into you more easily. Floyd likes that; he likes the weak things that crumble under him. He likes to push things to breaking. He likes to mark and bite and bloody and bruise and shred.

Jade likes to fix. He likes to mend, and then break, and then mend all over again. He likes the process, the psychological science behind a simple gesture, much like how he takes great pleasure in playing god over the plants in his terrariums. They say a budding serial killer starts small—with animals like rabbits or squirrels or cats. Jade starts with plants. He’ll put them in stressful environments—in soils with nutrients that don’t quite work—and he’ll watch them wilt, mottle, mold, and decay. He’ll watch them struggle to adapt, he’ll watch them yearn for water or sunlight, and only when he’s certain they’ve had enough he’ll give them proper, healthy care. It’s fun, the way he has so much control over something as dynamic as a plant. But plants cannot protest, cannot fight back, cannot act in the same way humans do. 

But it’s quite satisfying to pluck dried petals from a withered flower, almost like a morbid game of effeuiller la marguerite, and not hear a single scream.

So Jade is fully expecting Floyd to tire of you, to break you enough until boredom sinks its fangs into him and he moves on with his life. And what Floyd breaks Jade fixes, so he’s very ready to glue your heart together when Floyd shatters it. He’s ready to offer a handkerchief and his ear should you need to vent. He’s already prepared his speech: “I must apologize on behalf of Floyd. You know very well how he gets. If I can be of assistance in any way, please let me know.”

Unfortunately, you remain intact. Months pass, Floyd continues to love you, and your relationship unfolds like a lotus in early morning. Jade continues to observe. Floyd has never been one for privacy, so he’s seen every kiss, every bite, every inch of exposed skin. Hell, he’s sat at his desk and tallied Mostro Lounge’s monthly expenses while Floyd fucked you dumb on the other side of the room. He’s even made eye contact with you when you happened to gaze his way while his twin was buried balls-deep in that tight hole of yours. He wonders what goes on in that head of yours. Perhaps there’s nothing substantial within. Floyd’s scrambled your brains enough, so you could just be useless now. Though that wouldn’t be very fun, would it? He knows there’s more to you than you let on, especially when you play top and take every inch of Floyd, riding him so skillfully, and all Floyd can do is dig his fingers into your hips to guide you along to the rough, erratic pace the both of you have set. 

Jade watches fondly from the shadows. Floyd likes to have access to your neck and shoulders; he likes to take you from behind while leaning down to bite into soft flesh. But Jade thinks it would be much nicer to gaze upon your face, to kiss salt from your eyes, to pepper your jawline with tiny pecks, all while peering into eyes that house a beautiful soul. He thinks it would be nice to hold you down, have your legs wrapped around his waist or thrown up onto his shoulders, while he bottoms out. If it were Jade, he’d take you in every position, but he’d find the most pleasure in eye contact. There’s something intimate about it, much like how there’s intimacy in the hands that wrap around a throat. You have to be close to someone when you’re restricting their airflow; you have to squeeze until veins pop, until your hands are sore, until your fingernails have burrowed so deeply into skin that the crescent moons color crimson. It takes minutes to strangle someone, and every minute is spent staring into the wide, terrified eyes of a desperate soul on the verge of death.

Jade likes the way you smell, the way you speak, the way you laugh, the way you are, in every meaning of the word, so very filled with life. Even down to the way you breathe and gasp and moan and cry, you are life itself. Jade wants to bottle that for himself—pluck you from Floyd’s flower pot and place you in a terrarium with the most potent elements just to see how long you’d fare. He wants to save you from those same conditions, sandwich your face between gloved hands when he’s kneeled to your lowered height, and whisper about how it’s okay, about how you’re safe, about how he’d never truly hurt you. Jade knows that loving someone is a very special thing, but the way he loves you is not quite pleasant. The love he has for his hobbies and family is natural. Normal. Simplistic and familial. 

The love he has for you is murderous and frightening. Some days he looks at you like you’re prey he’s not yet devoured. Like you’re to be his first victim. 

Jade starts small. He takes tiny trinkets—a keychain, a pencil, an accessory. He stores these in a shoe box under his bed. When Floyd brings you over and clothes are cast aside, he swipes your undergarments for himself. He won’t wash them until he absolutely must. He’ll have the soft fabric wrapped around his dick later that same evening when Floyd’s fallen asleep and he’s up late contemplating love and lust and life and death, and he’ll cum to the thought of you. Sweet, adorable, oblivious you. 

He’s what one would call a persistence predator—a hunter who gradually wears his prey down over time. He takes from you, watches you, listens to you fret about missing things to Floyd, who promises to find the bastard who’s messing with you and squeeze them until they’re blue and purple. Jade smiles at that. Floyd wouldn’t really do that to him. Sure, they’ve hit each other when they’ve fought and roughhoused on occasion, but the punches were never truly meant. Sure, they might have been thrown playfully or angrily, but they were all temporary bouts of strength. Floyd wouldn’t truly hurt him, so to hear these determined promises and to see how you relax around him... It’s really cute. Jade wonders how much more he can take from you. 

And he wonders how much more you can take before you’re splintering. 

Really, you got lucky that Floyd picked you first. He’s far more merciful. Far more sweeter. Far more loving. At least Floyd is honest with his (at times) rough nature. At least he makes it known that he wants to bite you until you’re bleeding. But Floyd can’t stand whining. He hates it when people cry about things he can’t bother to care about, and lately you’ve been whining about this stalker you think you have for weeks now. Floyd’s told you you’re just being a scared shrimpy—that there is no stalker, that you’re probably just misplacing or losing these items, that none of them really matter because they’re replaceable. 

Jade gets lucky when Floyd finally washes his hands of you, officially fed up with your whining. And what Floyd damages Jade fixes. So when you’re in tears, distraught over the break-up and your missing items and your stalker and the fact that the door to Ramshackle was left unlocked again and that you feel like someone’s living in your shadow, Jade arrives to rescue you from your fear. You don’t even hesitate to cling to him and cry, spilling your worries in waterfalls. Perhaps it’s because he’s a familiar face. He is a reflection of Floyd, after all. 

“Oh dear,” he’ll whisper, stroking your back, allowing you to bury your face in his chest and sob. “There, there.”

You can’t see his expression, but there is a smile spreading on his lips. And his eyes are alight with cruel glee. 

“Would it make you feel better if someone accompanied you to your classes?” Your feeble nod is all he needs. “In that case, shall I spend a few days at Ramshackle with you? I’m certain whoever’s pursuing you won’t get very far if I’m around.”

And he’s right. Your stalker never takes anything again. They never leave the front door unlocked. They never trail behind you, taking shelter in your shadow. That’s because he’s your stalker, though you never managed to figure that out, and this time he doesn’t have to dwell in shadows or on the sidelines. This time he can stand before you as a friend, a soon-to-be lover, and perhaps a lifelong mate. 

Jade does not love often, but when he does it is as beautifully painful as tearing the wings from butterflies. 

[tleeaves]

You ever start actually chasing opportunities that interest you - because it interests you and nobody is telling you to do it? And you keep it quiet because a public failure would sting but it also means no one's telling you "no" or dictating how you should go about it. All of a sudden, the world feels open and free and full of things to try. And now you're falling back on old, self-destructive habits because heaven forbid you actually do well in let alone pursue something you wanted to do. So every day becomes a fight between the hopeful part of yourself that's chasing after dreams despite it all and the scared part of yourself that wants to assure failure to confirm that a dream is only a dream for a reason. How dare I, when I have the means, suddenly try to do the things my younger self was denied? Do things that are ambitious and beyond the expectations set for myself by me and other people? How dare I reach for anything when I should be just comfortable and vaguely dissatisfied?

[scrub-slots]

haunted by new ask blog idea

[protect-namine]

mitsuki's role in weekend lesson is so interesting, because... there's no challenge for him? why doesn't the mean casting director in neji want to challenge him?

(disclaimer that I'm on suzu's route and have only done kisa's route before this)

like, okay, so neji finds out that amber isn't participating in univeil's summer performance. his strategy would be something like a mix of fall and winter: aim to win, but also use the opportunity to train your new actors. since there isn't a chui to beat in this scenario, he and fumi can relax and risk a bit of the performance to train the new guys. alright, makes sense, cool cool.

so neji writes the characters and assigns the roles, right. the third years have some inner conflicts to overcome, and the first years have some growing to do. we have fumi playing the talented genius who quit competitive dancing, and kai who plays as someone that limits himself or is otherwise unambitious for the sake of supporting others. okay, same conflicts, let's see if the character development transfers from role to actor.

we have suzu playing louis who has pages and pages of monologue specifically, because suzu is bad at memorizing lines unless it's built around a conversation with another person (opposite of sou, who can memorize lines on his own). and also he has to do it while dancing, which he also needs to improve on. sou plays a jeanne who is cheerful, sociable, literally acts as the glue that binds everyone together through instigating the competition -- a departure from sou's own personality (plus sou, at this point I think, still wanted to play jack roles, though idk if neji knew this, or if it mattered to him). kisa plays a jack role for the first time, while also dancing and singing, and had to deal with neji sending her off to spy/steal ideas from other classes for her own improvement (in the guise of letting other classes try to poach her from quartz). neji always pushes a little harder on kisa, because he's always amazed that kisa will just do any of his own unreasonable demands (he says something to this effect if you let kisa choose neji to help her during one of the rehearsals).

so, okay, we've got a training plan down for everyone... except mitsuki. mitsuki doesn't get a challenge. shiroma is a side character, a prize to be won, very flat compared to even mukai (who has more depth to his personality even without the last minute improv). neji even throws in the random jazz lounge singer just so mitsuki can sing, which ends up looking more like a favor to mitsuki (since he only likes singing) and a "might as well use your talents somewhere" scenario.

(lmao shut up mitsuki, you got an easy role. sou has to dance both the great galleon and the random social dance kanna does in the background in andou's studio, and the dance she does with louis. the only characters who don't dance as much are mukai and employees A and B).

neji seems to place mitsuki in the same category as otori and himself: reliable in the roles they're good at, with no need to push for improvement compared to the others. but that's so interesting to me because like... why wouldn't he push mitsuki more? why wait until late into the year during the winter performance? and even then, initially, he wanted mitsuki as al jeanne more so to train kisa and fumi, rather than mitsuki himself. like, this is the scriptwriter who has no problems using other people's own inner conflicts as inspiration for his writing. neji can be a mean casting director when he wants to be. there's no reason why mitsuki is an exception.

I guess shiroma being a prize to be won and nothing more does mimic how mitsuki is valued for being a tresor and nothing more. but there is no space in the play for shiroma or mitsuki to do anything about that, unlike fumi and kai whose characters (andou and hasekura) both change throughout the play. mitsuki himself realizes very late into rehearsals (like, around a week before the performance) how he can connect with shiroma

and I mean, sure, that sounds compelling, but I don't think that's what neji intended nor do I think mitsuki is just talking about shiroma at this point, but hey this is the "theater is a metaphor" game sooooooo

anyway. I just think it's so odd that neji doesn't push mitsuki that much... but then I think about otori. I'd bet if otori wasn't so hilariously antagonistic to suzukisasou, he would also get the mean director neji treatment. not because of otori himself but more like. neji writes around actor chemistry and otori's rapport with the other actors is just less inspiring for drama and more inspiring for comedy LMAO (sorry otori). chui himself had a missing takihime bc he didn't really vibe with anyone on the stage.

and maybe that's it? mitsuki is also a person who distances himself from other people, and doesn't really put in the effort until later in the game. and before he even makes the effort for quartz (that neji sees), he really only made an effort for kisa. (I still maintain that mitsuki cares a lot about quartz even from the beginning, but whatever, I guess early game mitsuki that wasn't compelling enough for neji)

and I think it makes more sense why neji couldn't write anything for mitsuki. early game mitsuki doesn't have interesting relationships that neji could see. neji could write fumi and kai together and let their own internal conflicts be reflected in their relationship onstage. hasekura lets andou shine. mary jane wanted an equal (some form of it, a "friend" in the play) and that's why she created jacob. neji sees suzu and sou fighting in the hallway and in the next play writes jire and fugio fighting over chicchi. neji sees otori... being otori, and either writes him as funny side character A or a small-time antagonist to kisa.

which makes it extra hilarious why neji didn't understand oh rama havenna. neji wanted to experiment with fumi as a jack and kisa as a lead role. and mitsuki finally, coincidentally slots in as someone who could fill in the gaps left by fumi not being the al jeanne, and as someone who has a good relationship with kisa. and yet. mitsuki excels above and beyond during oh rama havenna, precisely because he makes rukiora his own character (as opposed to how neji initially wrote rukiora based on a younger version of himself; hence rukiora's relationship with domina) and rukiora's chemistry with chicchi reflects mitsuki's own relationship with kisa.

idk, I think all of this is just neat. kinda wish neji pushed mitsuki a little bit earlier, but also I think it's cute that he kept giving mitsuki easy roles for a while. he can push and prod the other actors, but he's making sure the princess doesn't have too much to complain about.

[thereignwolf]

the warmup for today

[boxwinebaddie]

an uncle nina check in <3

hi team! thanks for sticking around! i know my blog isn't always the most exciting and enriching place in the world in terms of content, but i am very /content/ to have you all here. <3333

i promise, oddly enough, i have A TON of inspiration and ideas for all my weird styles ( if you're curious about anything please lmk! i've been trying to flesh out my aus out lately ), i've just been in a major bummer depression era lately, so it's hard for me to get my asks done and i'm having a hard time committing to finishing my writing. :<

i think it's because of stress and my bipolar, but i am trying to get back on the horse! ( are we all laughing at the idea of me trying to get on a horse? i'd start crying help city girl fail moment for me ) yeehaw!

and while, unfortunately due to the instability ( fabulous legendary iconery ) of my pretty girl popstar personality, i do not know whether i will be answering almost no questions or one million, regardless of that, i just wanted to let you know, i'm still here, still kicking my feet, twirling my hair, cooking...i'm just really trying not to force myself to put out anything i don't like...and only do what makes me truly happy.

however, nothing, my dear sweet e-darlings...

makes me happier than coming home to all of you. <333

so thank you for flooding even the darkest corners of my life with bright light, supporting my phantom fics and being wonderful,

uncle nina xx